


Gratitude

by scapegrace74



Series: Metric Universe [13]
Category: Outlander & Related Fandoms, Outlander (TV), Outlander Series - Diana Gabaldon
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-02
Updated: 2020-10-02
Packaged: 2021-03-07 22:02:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,269
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26764759
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scapegrace74/pseuds/scapegrace74
Summary: When we last saw Jamie and Claire, they’d crashed, burned (somewhat literally) and declared their mutual interest in each other in their individual ways.   Whither now, our pair?The song by Big Red Machine (another guest artist!) that inspired the title is here: https://youtu.be/UrO-nRIQn3o
Relationships: Claire Beauchamp/Jamie Fraser
Series: Metric Universe [13]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1759669
Comments: 39
Kudos: 113





	Gratitude

**June 1, 2018, Costa Coffee, Whitechapel, London, England**

“It feels like ye might be avoiding me, Sassenach.”

It occurred to her that Jamie knew her schedule and habits to an uncomfortable degree for him to be sitting in her favourite coffee shop at exactly the point in her shift when she could no longer resist the siren call of caffeine.

Since the fire in their building and Jamie’s subsequent profession of love, they’d been living under separate roofs. Claire was sleeping on the couch at the home of one of her fellow medical students, and Jamie was bunking down with his uncle. Their flat had escaped the flames, suffering only smoke damage, but it would be at least eight weeks before the building was declared structurally sound and they could move back in.

Heading to the counter, Claire purchased her usual extra-large oat milk cortado with a fruited teacake, then added a flat black with raw sugar for Jamie. Sitting down, she slid his coffee across the tiny table before splitting her teacake and balancing half on his saucer. He nodded his thanks, but was otherwise silent, waiting her out.

“I don’t know how to do this,” she began, surprising them both with the frankness of her opening salvo. It helped, she found, to be paying undue attention to stirring her drink as she spoke.

“That doesna sound like ye, _mo nighean donn_. Why don’t ye tell me what part is vexin’ ye, an’ we can see if we canna bash our brains t’gether til we come up wi’ a plan, aye?”

She knew what he was doing. Cleverly depersonalizing their situation so that she could approach it like any other problem. Part of her resented his easy manipulation, grounded as it was in how well he knew her. But there was a secret part of her that thrilled at the emotional intimacy. To be seen, truly seen, in all her messy complexity, was a novel experience. Jamie knew the architecture of her heart, all its dark corners and blind hallways. He must have recognized something worthy there, to be willing to so patiently coax her away from its solitude.

Plus, she’d spent the last year training him to lower the toilet seat when he was done. That wasn’t the sort of work you just walked away from.

“It’s... god, where do I start? It’s having no idea what it means to be in a healthy adult relationship. And the crippling fear that if I fuck this up, it’ll ruin our friendship, which is so important to me, Jamie. I don’t think you have any idea... Plus our living situation...”

“We arenna livin’ t’gether for the moment, Sassenach,” Jamie interrupted. He had leaned forward across the table as she stammered through her recitation, and his curls had flopped across his brow in that boyish way they had. Her chest tightened, torn between affection and blind terror.

“No. That’s true,” she admitted.

“With yer permission, I’d like tae make a suggestion.” At her cautious nod, Jamie continued. “For the next two months, we willna be roommates. I’d like tae use tha' time tae... court ye...”

“Court me?!” Claire blurted out. “What, like in a Jane Austen novel?” She couldn’t help but smile at Jamie as he blushed, but he continued undeterred.

“Aye, like that. Ye’re used tae havin’ all the answers, Sassenach, but this isna one of yer wee tests tha’ ye can study for. We’re gonna have tae wing it, and see where it takes us. But I promise ye, I willna play ye false and I willna walk away. If it doesna work, we can go back tae livin’ t’gether as friends, no questions asked. Will ye at least give this thing between us a chance? ”

At some point during his speech, their hands had met across the table. She could feel Jamie’s trembling through his fingertips. He was scared too, but he was being brave, presumably because he felt it was worth the risk. How could she dare to do otherwise?

“Alright,” she conceded, and his smile warmed her face like sunshine. “What do you propose, then? Shall I don my best parlour gown and set out the petit fours, Master Fraser?”

“Och, I dinna mean tae be makin’ ye call me master quite yet, Sassenach,” he teased, delighting in her blush. “I’ll be at yer door t’morrow. Three sharp. Wear somethin’ comfortable an’ bring a jumper for after dark.”

Finishing his teacake in three large bites, Jamie hopped up from his seat and brushed the crumbs from his jeans. With a mischievous grin and a cock-eyed wink, he bent over at the waist, raised her hand to his mouth and kissed her knuckles.

“Until tomorrow then, milady.”

Jesus Christ, what had she just done?

***

To her relief, Jamie showed up at Joe’s front door in his usual jeans and Henley, not a frock coat and jodhpurs He wasn’t even carrying flowers. Joe tried to buttonhole him with talk of the previous night’s football match, but after a few minutes of polite chitchat Jamie ushered Claire out the door, joking that he’d have her home before curfew. He chatted easily about his day as they walked outside into the sunshine, ignoring her one word replies.

She wasn’t quite sure what to make of his behaviour. The Jamie she knew had always been charming, when he wasn’t busy putting his foot in his mouth. Now she marveled at his apparent ease as they descended the steps into the Tube.

Heading west on the District Line, thoughts continued to assail her. Was he always this self-confident on a date? How often did he go out with other women, anyway? She’d assumed she knew everything there was to know about Jamie, but maybe she was wrong. Before Frank, her last date had been back in nursing school, and a VHS player and copious cheap beer had been involved. Despite the over-zealous air conditioning in their train, her palms began to sweat.

“Ye needn’t be afraid of me, Claire,” Jamie’s soft burr interrupted her quiet panic attack. “I’m no’ going tae suddenly turn into some man ye dinna recognize, just because I’m tryin’ tae romance ye a wee bit.”

Once again, with only a few words Jamie had peeled away her layers of confusion and doubt to strike at the core of what was bothering her. She forced herself to take a deep breath and immediately recognized Jamie’s scent; a blend of laundry detergent, his vetiver bar soap, and a touch of chlorine left over from the morning’s swim. It set her at ease. He hadn’t worn cologne. His left boot had a frayed lace that had needed changing since March. His cuticles were as perfectly formed as ever. He was her Jamie, and she could trust him to behave in accordance with what she already knew of him, even in this uncharted territory.

“So, where exactly are we going?” she asked after the crackling announcement for St. James Park had died away.

“Would it ease yer mind a wee bit, if I told ye?”

“Maybe a wee bit,” she confessed.

“Well, then, how can I refuse? Have ye e’er been tae the Chelsea Physic Garden, Sassenach?”

***

As it turned out, by some grievous oversight she hadn’t. Wedged between a high brick wall and the Thames was a three hundred and fifty year old urban oasis, filled with plants that could either treat your ailments or kill you. Naturally, she was enchanted. Jamie followed her between the beds and down the shaded lanes of pea gravel, a soft smile held between his lips as she exclaimed in delight at each new discovery.

When the garden finally closed, they walked along the Embankment and over the Thames at Chelsea Bridge, stopping to watch the sun set over the murky water. A food truck beckoned with its aroma of chips and burgers, which they ate side-by-side on a nearby park bench, going back for extra napkins when their choice in toppings proved especially messy.

It was the least romantic meal she’d ever eaten, and she was soothed and smitten in equal measure.

Washing grease from his hands in a drinking fountain, Jamie turned to her in the half-light.

“Now, I have a verra important question of ye, Sassenach, and how ye answer will determine the course of our evenin' t’gether.”

Here it was, she balked. The hook at the end of the line. The sour amongst so much sweetness. She shouldn’t have expected...

“Are ye,” Jamie continued, unaware of her inner diatribe, “afraid of heights?”

... no different than any other man, with his...

“Am I what?” she blurted, once her brain caught up with her ears.

“Afraid of heights? An’ a bit of a scamper up some stairs?”

Jamie was pointing over her shoulder. She peered into the night, but all she could make out was the hulking shadow of the derelict Battersea Power Station.

***

It was a convoluted story, but the outline went something like this: the massive coal-fired station, with its four spire-like chimneys, was slated for redevelopment. Jamie had taken part in an onsite review of the location by the London Fire Service, and had befriended a representative of the developer. Somehow, this friend had granted Jamie access to the site for the evening. Which is how Claire now found herself over fifty metres above the ground, climbing a seemingly endless series of metal steps, while her curls tried to escape the confines of a workman’s hard hat.

“You really know how to show a girl a good time, Jamie Fraser,” she huffed as they came to a large landing bracketed in scaffolding. Above them, a white chimney ascended into the dome of the sky.

“Ye canna say I dinna take yer breath away, Sassenach,” he teased.

She was about to retort when they stepped around the base of the chimney tower, and all words failed her.

Rolled out far below their feet, the Thames was a black carpet reflecting millions of pinpoint gems skyward, broken by belts of light where it was traversed by its many bridges. Beyond the eastern bend in the river, the City glowed with an eternal hum. The colossal void of the station was a palpable presence behind their backs.

“It reminds me of yer Uncle Lamb’s saying, about makin’ our present out of the bones of our past. Twasn’t her original purpose, but here she stands, still vital and strong, bein' made anew. An’ a vision of beauty fer all tha’.”

She wasn’t convinced that Jamie was talking about the power station. 

A cool breeze blew off the river, and she shivered. A jacket still warm with body heat immediately covered her shoulders. They stood side by side in silence, just taking in the view.

When their hands bumped, it seemed the most natural thing in the world to thread her fingers with his own.

“You’ve set the bar impossibly high for any future dates, you know,” she commented eventually.

“Ye’re only sayin’ that because ye dinna ken what else I have planned.” His grin was impossibly smug, and she fought the urge to kiss it right off his beautiful mouth. He must have read the impulse, because his face was slowly approaching her own, eyes a volatile sky-blue mix of hope and trepidation.

Her own lids fluttered closed in anticipation. Just as their lips should have been meeting, their was a ductile crunch, and their heads ricocheted apart. Their hard helmets had collided. Jamie swore softly beneath his breath, but Claire couldn’t help giggling.

“Oh, thank god. It _is_ you. I was beginning to wonder.”

***

It was late when they finally exited the Tube, but Jamie insisted on accompanying Claire all the way to the Abernathy’s front door. She handed him back his leather jacket, feeling suddenly exposed in the brightly lit hall. The date had been magical, far beyond her wildest expectations, and it felt strange to return to the prosaic reality of their lives.

“Thank you for a wonderful time, Jamie.”

“Twas my pleasure, Sassenach. I’ve missed ye, these past few weeks. And I really hope... well, ye’ll tell me when ye want tae do somethin’ like this again, aye?” His hand went to the back of his neck in a self-conscious gesture she knew well. Bless the man, he had no idea the effect he had on her. It was well past time to let him know.

“I’d love that. Truly. I’ve got final exams to study for, but maybe sometime next week?”

"Well then,” he replied, clearly delighted with her response. “I should let ye get some sleep. Good luck on yer exams, Sassenach. And thank ye, fer goin' out wi' me. Twas a day I’ll ne’er forget.”

He began to walk away.

“Jamie!” He turned around.

“Aye?”

Walking forward to the beat of her pounding heart, she halted when their bellies were practically touching. Lifting up on tiptoe, she pressed into his mouth. Time slowed to a syrupy drip as their lips met for the first time. His rough exhale was the only sound in the cocoon of sensation that enveloped them. It felt like she was falling through an endless cloud. Too soon, she had to pull away to capture her breath, and the spell was broken. Judging by his moonstruck expression, Jamie had been equally affected. She smiled when she realized his arms were still extended in front of him, like he was trying to hold on to the memory of their kiss.

“Goodnight, James Alexander Malcolm Mackenzie Fraser,” she purred before she disappeared from sight.


End file.
